The Lost Boy that Darkened or Faded
by PeeweeWolf
Summary: Jolene Bowie always wondered what ever happened to her little, forlorn neighbor, James. Little did she know James was now a big pop star. But has he changed any? James/OC (Bullying story)
1. Nightmare

**Based on a semi-true story. I don't have a favorite BTR member, but my favorite one to write about is James. Anywho :) Please enjoy!**

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_Carlos's POV:_

The first night or two James started to wake up at night with panic attacks, we thought he had a nightmare. But as days went by, and they happened every night, we got worried. And every night, when we tried waking him up and calm him down, he asked me to sleep with him for the rest of the night. It got to the point where I decided to sleep in his bunk permanently. None of us could get any rest. Every time we asked what was wrong, it was as if he refused to tell us. He would shrug, claim he was having nightmares, or play dumb.

I could hear moans in my subconscious. They got louder and louder until my eyes shot open. James was having one of his "night terrors" again. I crawled on top of him and tried shushing him. The moonlight shun through the window. James was sweating. What had he been dreaming about?

I could hear my bandmates roll over in their bunks or put a pillow over their heads. It's not that they didn't care, it was just very tiring. We were on tour, so of course they all had to hear it too.

I gently shook him, calling his name. He suddenly let out one more loud shriek and opened his eyes. He was looking straight at me, his breath rasped in his throat. More tears spilled down his cheeks as he tried to regain his boundaries. He looked scared out of his _mind. _He stared at me like it was the last time he was ever going to see me again.

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm here." When I started stroking his hair, he burst into tears. He covered his face and slowly sat up. As sad as this was, it was normal now. It was like a routine.

"Everything's okay, buddy. You want me to get you something to drink?" I asked as I did every night. He thought for a moment like he always does, and then shakes his head yes. I uncurl my arms from the hug and jump out of bed.

Barefoot, I walked out of the small room and to the fridge. I started making hot chocolate. I could tell James was trying to keep his hiccups and hyperventilating on a low. I looked at the microwave and saw it was 2AM. I began to wonder- what would happen after the tour? This was the first time he had been having these "terrors", and I knew from all the other tours and overnight hangouts. I married Alexa in January, so I knew I couldn't move in with James to help him. Then I wondered if I should call James's family. Did this happen to him as a child? Was it off and on? I was sure either way they'd like to know what's wrong with their son.

I put the chocolate milk in the microwave for a minute and a half. I went to check on James. Like always, he sitting up on our- his top bunk, looking like he's seeing right through me with those beautiful eyes. His breathing calmed down, but I could tell his emotions were still a bit haywire.

I pressed 'clear' on the microwave before it would beep loudly, signaling its fulfillment. I had made the drink in James's favorite mug- the one of Fox that Logan had got him on Thanksgiving. I also got a rag and ran it under the sink. I squeezed out the remaining cold water and also retrieved the hot chocolate. I walked back into the room, sliding the door closed. I pushed back the privacy-curtains and carefully handed it to James as I crawled back onto the top bunk.

"Thank you, Carlos." He whispered, taking a sip.

I smiled. "Of course." He stopped drinking when I pressed the rag over his forehead.

A small smile etched across his face. "Thank you, again."

I simply nodded, my eyes growing heavy. I yawned, so badly wanting to go back to sleep but wanting to get answers out of him once again.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"You could say that."

"Was it about people getting hurt again?"

He set the coffee mug in his lap. "In a way. I guess."

I frowned. I tried to be respectful of what he wanted to keep secret, but my tiredness must've gotten the best of me. "Why won't you just tell me? Tell us?"

He didn't break from his gaze. "Because...I'll...I'll get in your way."

"What are you talking about?" It sounded a little more sharp and firm than I expected. He flinched, just barely. "I told you- I'm not talking about it. I'm sorry. About everything. You won't have to deal with this once the tour's over."

I sighed and patted the side of his arm. "It's not _dealing, _it's _helping. _Just because the tour's over- I'm not- I don't want you to have these 'terrors' and wake up alone."

He looked at me with one eyebrow raised. "What are you saying here?"

"I'm saying I'm willing to move i-"

"No." He interrupted, trying to keep his voice low.

"But you're-"

"No."

"Alexa can wa-"

"No!" He hissed, his eyes appear to be on the verge of pooling again.

"James, we're worried about you. My love with Alexa can wait. I want to do this because you're a brother to me and I love you..."

He was thinking about all of this. "But I'll be fine."

My head hurt. "James please. At least tell me _one _of the reasons of at least _one _these nightmares."

He sighed. "Well, I- I don't know how to explain it. It feels like death is around me. Like someone's going to die, but I'm just not sure who." He lied. Oh, he was _such _a good liar. If only Carlos knew the truth.


	2. Confusion

_James's POV:_

A part of me was happy Carlos wanted to move in with me like that; a big part of me. I wasn't sure if he was just sorry for me or didn't want to look like a bad friend though. He seemed sincere. He insisted that he would, and I didn't fight it. Our last tour (as far as I knew) was coming to a close, and each night, the nightmares of my memories grew worse.

There was an event that stayed vivid in my mind. I had some friends, but not best friends, not friends I hung out with after school.

"Rosalina told us she has a crush on you and Shawn."

I was internally beaming. "Really?"

My friends Samantha, Maddie, and Dylan confirmed it as a yes. I didn't show it, but for the next five days, I felt a sliver of happiness shining through my walls of self hatred. On that following Wednesday, at the library, I mentioned Rosalina Farr. I couldn't remember what exactly.

"You know we were just joking right?"

I frowned. I quickly changed faces. "Ppht. Yeah. Course. I would never date a hoe like her." I lied.

I had to slowly realize they pulled things like that on me. Like asking to borrow my homework to copy for the night just to get entertainment out of how much I'd worry if they lost it or something. It sounded a little derisory when I told my brother about it, but it still tore at my heart.

There was another time...I could remember kids in the class throwing pencils and crumbled up loose leaf papers at my head. This day in hell, ladies and gentlemen, was in the 10th grade at my new school. I could hear evil, suppressed laughs and snickers. I tried desperately to ignore them. When I felt a _notebook _slam into my head, Mr. Goff seemed to notice.

I could remember it clear as day- the weather outside, the pencil in my hand, what I wore, what the hotheaded students in my English class wore.

"Mr. Johnson," Mr. Goff said, "Come up please."

Bryan walked up to the front up next to Mr. Johnson at his podium. He whispered something in Bryan's ear, and Bryan was out the door. The other students stopped pelting me after this.

After what felt like an eternity, the bell rang. I dashed out the door. It was gym now. I needed to hurry and get dressed before the others came. I hurriedly stuffed my books into my lockers and powerwalked for the boy's locker room. I noticed Ben Wilson from the corner of my eye. I hoped he wouldn't notice me, but I felt pressure against my ankle and tripped. I could feel someone grabbing at my ankles and someone above me at my shoulders. They picked me up and started taking me to the locker room. I struggled, trying to call for help. But it was no use. I was slammed to the floor, and I heard the whack of the lockers as I was pushed up against them. They took my shirt off, and I had no earthly idea what they were planning next.

They dragged me over to one of the wooden benches and had me pinned to it. With the shirt, they put large rocks inside, molding the shirt into the sling.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I knew exactly what they were doing.

The sling came in excruciating contact with my stomach like a thick whip. I hollered out in pain. I had never seen them laugh this hard before. I received another blow.

"Pretty boy!"

"Qeer." And another.

"Drama son of a bitch!" And another.

"Your legs must be like Tescos. Open 24/7." And another.

I tried to fight back tears, not from the pain but from the shame. But it was unbearable. They did it ten more times, the last one at my head. I practically flew off the bench. I grasped my stomach. They threw me back the shirt and left. I lay there for what seemed like hours, but I had to get up for dismissal.

In fact, the nightmare I had was of Kendall, Logan, Dustin, and Carlos. _They _were the ones beating me with the sling.

If I could draw a heart, I know I would see stitches and a Band-Aid or two...

Ninety-nine percent of me knew that, after all this time with my bandmates, they would break off contact with me and do their own things like everyone else.

Relatives secretly had favorites.

Pets would love you, but they'll die in like five years anyway.

Your fans only love you for your talent, and if you make one eye-catching, wrong move, that would be it right?

Your parents know all of your mistakes and keep you feeling as if you're in a prison.

But I just want to be free.

I've constantly prayed to God, but nothing has changed.

I loved Kendall, Logan, Dustin, and Carlos like brothers, but I knew when the end of Big Time Rush came, goodbye bandmates. I tried to distance myself from them on this tour so the pain would be a bit more bearable. I couldn't even tell if it was _working._

All I know now is that I want to be free. A place with no people to disturb. The only places I had to be free was in my slumber, but now my sleep was being corrupted by my life awake.

"What do I do?" I asked myself aloud for the first time ever.

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**Sorry I didn't have enough time to write a longer chapter! I'm very busy this week unfortunately. :( Hope you have enjoyed it so far! :)**


	3. Longing

_Jolene's POV:_

I drove home like I had to go disarm a bomb. I only went even the slightest mile slower when the sun wasn't in my eyes. Finally, the weekend! I couldn't wait to take a long, hot shower to wash away the smells of pills and other undesirable smells. As much as love the old men and women at the senior living I work for, there were some days where I just wanted to run away like some the men with the Altiemerz do.

Once I was out of the shower, I drew faces and words in the steamy mirror like an idiot for what seemed like an eternity. Then I took a good look at myself.

_You're not Beyoncé, but you'll do._

I got dressed into plaid pajamas, put my hair up, and went into the kitchen. I had that same enthusiasm towards dinner. _You're not steak, but you'll do, Lucky Charms. _After eating, I went to my desk to check my emails on my laptop. My grandmother had sent me another youtube video of something she had seen. Sometimes they involve animals and other times they are funny videos that I never pay enough attention to click on on the homepage. This time it was about an adorable Yorkie with all kinds of tricks it knew how to do. No matter how cute it was, I still couldn't believe this was how Granna spent her free time.

"Well hello there." I laughed, noticing the ad next to the video. It was of four young men that looked about 5, 6 years younger than me. It was a boy band I had never noticed before called "Big Time Rush". They all had alluring, unique beauty that other bands didn't seem to have. Having nothing else to do but wash the dishes (that can wait for tomorrow morning, right?), I clicked on the ad. It took me to their homepage, flaunting their albums on it like a parade float.

There was one man that looked oddly familiar though. It was the tallest one with the army green jacket. Those eyes...they reminded me too much of someone I used to know. Out of curiosity, I clicked on the "About" section. It showed four names: Kendall, Carlos, Logan, James.

My heart stopped.

James?

"Just a coincidence maybe." I whispered to myself as I pulled up a Google search engine. I typed in the name of the band and James. There were countless links. I clicked on the Wikipedia link. I read about him, and nothing clicked until I read that he was from La Jolla and that his birthday was in July.

_So that's who he is... _I was at a loss for words. This James Maslow...this famous young man used to live right next to me until his family had moved when he was 6. Those dark hazel eyes that looked through you never changed. I got the third hint when I remembered celebrating his sixth birthday party in the summertime. I loved him like a little brother. I never forgot about him and I miss that little boy to this day. But now here he was- 23, six-foot-one, very muscular.

For the next 6 hours, I sat at my laptop looking at old and new pictures of him, listening to their music, watching interviews, visiting his youtube channel, watching their TV show I had never seen, and through it all memories of him clouded my mind. He still had that kind, good nature in him, but he was much more serious. I wanted to watch more, but when I noticed it was midnight, I knew I needed to get to bed quick.

I laid down and thought about nothing but James. Who knew his voice was so angelic!

It brought tears to my eyes thinking about my days with him when he was a little boy. He was like a puppy, so vital and innocent. He was one of the youngest and most innocent of all the kids on our street. Even his siblings weren't like him. I could remember one day when I was 12 and he was 5. It was a warm, dry summer day. I was the oldest child on our street, except for the 13 year old across the street, but she never came out. I swear she was an owl or vampire or something. All the little girls were playing with their LPS toys while the other little boys were catching and throwing footballs.

"I thought we could play superman!"

That was just like him. He was always in his own little world. There was no such thing as soccer or tag or football, but there was superman and zombie-bear tag and Dr. Seuss adventures. That was a problem sometimes though when he played in his backyard with no one but him and his imaginary friends.

"Sure!" I said.

"Okay! Um, I'll be- I'll be superman. And you can be his girlfriend, superwoman!"

"Okay!" I wasn't really excited about the game itself. I loved playing with him simply because of how interesting he was and plus he had no one else to play with.

I thought it was peculiar how our enemy was the joker.

"We need to use our- our heat vision to get rid of him! Ding!" James hollered, pretending he had heat vision and burning the imaginary joker to its death. I was always embarrassed if the neighbors saw me so into a game like this, but I didn't want to let James down.

There were many games like that. There was another time that struck my mind that made me laugh out loud. Sometimes he was blind to negativity. One time he wanted to go zombie-bear hunting, and it was me, him, and a 6-year-old, mean little girl named Laura.

"Jolene can be the looker-outer person, and Laura can be the leader." James stated.

"No!" Laura shouted, molding a mound of sand into a pile.

"Okay, than- than you can be the lookout." He said, pointing at Laura.

"No!" She shouted again.

There was a short pause before he continued. "Okay, so Laura is the leader. Now I think we should start- look over there!"

It was amazing to see how much he had grown. I wondered what had happened after he had moved. I remembered getting into the car to go to the store with mom when I saw James sitting in our driveway drawing with chalk. He didn't look up when I came out.

"Hey, James. What's up."

It broke my heart when I realized he was on the brink of tears. "I'm going to move and I won't have friends anymore."

I sat down next to him. "Sure you will! People will love you in your new neighborhood! You will definitely make lots a friends there. Plus, you still have us."

"Well, I- I only have you. I got in a fight with Mark and Todd and them over what to play this morning and now they're not friends with me."

"Oh, I'm sure they didn't mean it..."

That's when I started getting worried about him. He was very sensitive after all. In the week right before he moved, he had purposely broken one of my the kid's pots on their porch when they weren't able to play with him. I had never seen any behavior like that in him before. I almost refused to believe it when I had heard about it.

Then he was gone forever out of my life. I started wondering how he would feel if he met me again. I was sure he remembered me.

His voice that was too-special-for-words was singing in my head and lulled me to a deep sleep.


End file.
